Breaking Point
by Adam Shmadam
Summary: What I imagine to be the aftermath of 9.4, based on spoilers only.  Spoilerish for Season 9, up to 9.4
1. Chapter 1

_**Here's what I wish would happen after 9.4… **_

How he ended up in this situation, Harry barely knew. She was trembling in his arms, her head buried against his shoulder. He wasn't positive, but he thought she was sobbing softly. But the fact remained that Ruth was where he had always wished her to be, but he was powerless to do anything about it. If he had loved her less or were more like his younger self, he may have tried to take advantage of her vulnerability, but now he was just content that she hadn't flinched away from him. As it was, he couldn't justify this. Whether or not he agreed with her reasoning, she had made her feelings about their relationship plain. He had closed the door to anything other than work between them. If tete a tetes were off limits, he was pretty sure embraces – no matter the circumstances – were as well. And yet here he stood in her kitchen, holding her close, desperate not to move, and hoping to hell she didn't notice how hard his heart was pounding in his chest.

He had sent her out in the field. It had been the right decision, despite the fact that Ruth had rarely left the Grid. She knew Mandarin, and would be able to disentangle the research they were trying to protect. Harry had even made a slight joke about her coming back in one piece – a sad attempt at humor to put her at ease, and maybe even make their relationship a little less awkward around the Grid. Later when Tariq had told him of the bomb blast where Ruth was, Harry felt as if his chest had imploded. After the longest ten minutes of his life, it was determined that Ruth and the asset she was watching were both shaken but unharmed. Without a word, Harry left the Grid and no one had any doubt as to where he was headed.

She vaguely registered her doorbell ringing. Before she could gather herself together to answer, she found herself face to face with Harry in her hallway. _Oh God, not now. _She wasn't ready to deal with whatever was passing for conversation between them lately.

"Are you alright?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I told you I was on the phone." She was trying hard to be definitive, trying to tamp down the waves of panic that had been threatening to overwhelm her since she escaped the blast.

"You know what I mean." An insistent edge to his voice was back.

"I'm fine." She turned her back on him, and fled to the kitchen. He followed, and it was apparent that she was anything but fine.

"You're shaking like a leaf, Ruth."

"I told you, I'm fine." In demonstration, she moved to make tea, steadfastly refusing to look at the interloper in her kitchen. He watched her, noticing how pale she looked. He had been through enough close calls to know what shock looked and felt like.

_I can do this. He'll see I'm at least capable of making bloody tea on my own, and leave me alone. I don't want to fight right now._ The cup of boiling liquid slipped from her hand, and shattered in a hundred shards on the floor. The next thing she knew, she was sobbing uncontrollably and she felt a pair of arms draw close around her.

How long they were like that, silent and still with each other, neither knew. Ruth's shaking and sobbing were subsiding, but he selfishly didn't want to break away. As the panic gradually dissipated, Ruth was appalled at the position she found herself in. She couldn't deny that she found herself comfortable and comforted in Harry's embrace, but she also knew that this was wrong. She had refused him, and having done that, she needed to be consistent. He deserved that at least. This was only going to serve to make their tenuous working relationship that much more awkward.

Neither noticed Beth return. They were so quiet, she practically bumped into them in the kitchen. The sight of Harry Pearce, oblivious to the fact that he was being observed in an embrace with one of his team, standing in a puddle of tea was one that would stay with Beth for quite awhile. She felt embarrassed for having witnessed such a private moment, even for only a split second, so stealthily crept into her room.

He was never more reluctant to leave anywhere in his life, but he knew that the longer he held her, the more awkward it was going to be later. He had never intended for this to happen, and he berated himself for getting himself in this situation. As it was, it was all he could do to keep focused on work when she was around. Now that he had the memory of holding her, the scent of her hair, it was going to be that much harder.

Harry had the vague sensation that they were no longer alone, and that helped to steel his resolve. Ruth was still stunned, and she seemed barely aware when he steered her into the living room, sat her on the couch, and put a throw blanket around her shoulders. He quickly mopped up the remains of the shattered mug, and put more water on to boil. He tapped on the door to what he thought was Beth's room.

"Take care of her." He nodded his head towards the living room, and Beth was surprised by how pale Harry looked.

"Of course, Harry." He nodded, and strode out without a backward glance.

_**Reviews greatly appreciated! Frankly, Season 9 is wreaking havoc with my visions of R/H fanfic, but I may add more to this later…maybe a bit more fluffy…**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**So, my idea for 9.4 didn't happen (I'd be super surprised if it did!) – anyway, this is what would follow my version…**_

Ruth was paradoxically tired but not at all sleepy. She had taken a long, hot bath, and now she was curled up on her couch, trying not to think too much about the events of the day. Beth had made some dinner, and until the food was put before her, Ruth hadn't realized she was hungry. Ruth's wine glass was refilled by Beth, who had finished the washing up and sat down opposite. _I need to take it easy on the wine. The last thing I need is an alcohol problem on top of everything else._ Beth must have been able to read her thoughts in her expression.

"I think you deserve a second glass after today."

"Thanks." A wan smile.

They were tentative flatmates; Ruth was uncomfortable in the position Lucas had placed her in. It was a different matter altogether spying on a colleague. Although she had to admit she was glad for the company tonight. Beth for her part still felt like the new kid at school, despite her experience in the private sector. She and Ruth hadn't talked much except about day-to-day things, and she had the impression that Ruth had been through a lot of sadness in her life. After what she had witnessed today between her and Harry, curiosity was getting the better of her.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"OK." Ruth wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or the wine that answered for her.

"What is it between you and Harry, really?"

"What makes you say that?" Ruth was getting defensive already, and Beth was pretty sure that Ruth hadn't seen her when she came in earlier.

"I'm not a gossip. It's just that you'd have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to notice that there is _something_…and for Dimitri's sake…"

"Dimitri?" Ruth was aghast. Beth couldn't help but laugh.

"Goodness, Ruth, for an intelligence analyst you're not very observant sometimes. So, should I warn Dimitri…?"

"It's…complicated…"

"It always is."

The comment surprised Ruth – Beth seemed to young to be so…jaded. Ruth was at war with herself about how much to say, even assuming she could articulate it to another person. It was tempting to unburden herself, to try to get another perspective. God knows she had closed the door on ever really being able to talk to Harry again. She was silent for so long that Beth had given up hope that she would get an answer.

"Harry's very hurt and angry with me."

_That's not what I saw earlier_, Beth thought.

"Why?"

"Because I refused his proposal." _Bloody hell._ That was not what Beth had expected. Admittedly, she didn't know Harry that well, but she would've thought that he would be one of those who were "married to the Service".

"Were you honest?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"Think about what we are, what we do. We spend our lives lying, manipulating, poking under people's defenses. Honesty, even to ourselves, is a pretty scarce commodity. Harry probably understands that better than anyone. He may be disappointed," and here the image of Harry oblivious to anything but Ruth in his arms came into her head, "but I don't think he's angry, at least not with you. Even if he were, in time he'll come to appreciate your honesty above everything."

Ruth had no reply to that. That was the crux of the whole matter. Had she been honest with him? Or was she so terrified of getting hurt she shut him out before it could happen? The truth of the matter was that she couldn't shake the feeling of how he held her earlier, and it was disconcerting. Time had stood still for those moments, but was that the shock, or because it _was_ Harry? She thought of all the times lately that he had shut her out, and how much that had hurt her, even though she couldn't blame him. She had taken his friendship, however charged and awkward, for granted, and missed it greatly now that it was gone. _Oh hell._

The exhaustion was creeping in now, aided by the wine. Whatever conclusions she was going to come to, it wasn't going to be tonight. She thought about Beth had said, and something came to mind:

"You have a story behind that, don't you? The whole honesty thing…"

"Yes, but it's not one for tonight. You should get some rest. Goodnight."

"Goodnight…and thanks."

Both spooks lay awake that night, despite the stress of the day, lost in their own thoughts.

_**Reviews would be lovely! **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks for the kind reviews! **_

For one of the few times in his life, Harry had no idea what he was doing. Not being in control was an unnatural state for him and he hated it. When he left Ruth, he walked without a destination, trying to clear his head. As in most things lately, he was decidedly unsuccessful in his objective. She stirred up so much in him, he scarcely knew where to begin. He passed couples walking hand in hand, and he mentally cursed them with a vehemence that surprised himself. Even a bus lumbering past had triggered an old memory of her that in this mood he would rather have kept buried. _Get a hold of yourself, Pearce_. _You've still got a job to do. You'll have the rest of your miserable existence to lament her. _ He needed to get a grip on himself, if not for his own sanity, then for the safety of his team and perhaps even the nation. His self-control, ability to think clearly, was what had kept him and others alive.

He was bitterly angry with himself for a myriad of reasons. He had been an idiot to let his emotions where she was concerned to get so out of hand in the first place. He hated hypocrisy, but he was perhaps the biggest hypocrite of all. For all his posturing about self-denial and self-control, he had let her under his defenses and was fool enough to hope. He had lied to her without meaning to; he had said that they would move on, and then found that not only he couldn't do so, but that he didn't want to. What had he hoped to achieve by running to Ruth today? There was no doubt in his mind that had anyone else been in that situation, he would've acted differently. An offer of a stiff drink and a fatherly chat would have been sufficient. Instead, he tried the bloody knight-on-a-charger routine on the damsel that doesn't want him. When he thought that he might have killed her today entered his mind, nausea threatened to overwhelm him and he had to stop and grip the railings beside him for a moment. He had to put his officers in mortal danger before, nearly every day in fact for some twenty years but he knew that her death would've finished him. There would be no rationalization, no coping mechanism that would save him from that if she were gone. When she had been in exile, the only thought that kept him going some days was that she alive, somewhere. It was the breadcrumb that had sustained his heart for years.

Harry told himself that there were still lots of details on the operation to go over, but it was nearer the truth that he didn't want to go home to an empty house. He made his way to the Grid, trying to lock his emotions away. He shrugged off his coat, loosened his tie, and poured himself a drink before settling down behind his desk. As the night wore on, he steadfastly avoided looking over to her workstation.

Beth had come to the conclusion that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. It didn't bear thinking about how Harry would react if he knew what she knew regarding him and Ruth. She was also relieved that Dimitri, on his own, had decided to give Ruth some space. The last thing she wanted to do was to get more involved in this situation than she already was. Ruth, for her part, concentrated on her work and tried unsuccessfully to not think about how good it felt to be in Harry's arms. The embrace in her kitchen was, unsurprisingly, not brought up by either of them. Harry had reverted to being coolly civil towards Ruth, but more than once Beth caught a split-second softening of his glance towards the analyst.

It was poor Tariq that nearly dropped the match into the emotional tinderbox that the Grid had become. In the midst of a briefing, there had been a somewhat pointed exchange between Ruth and Harry over the best course of action. Such a discussion was not unheard of, and indeed, was practically expected. The briefing over, everyone started filing out. Tariq, who had been sitting across from Ruth, had a smirk on his face.

"What's so funny?" Ruth asked, as she picked up her files.

"It's just that sometimes you and Harry are exactly like an old married couple," he replied.

Ruth muttered something under her breath and stormed out, leaving Tariq perplexed. Beth wasn't positive, but she was pretty sure that Harry had still been within earshot for the exchange.

_**A short chapter, but I hope you liked it. I have another one in my head, and will hopefully be able to get it down and uploaded soon! Please leave a review….**_


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days were a blur to Ruth. She worked even longer hours than usual and managed, for the most part, to avoid both Harry and Beth. She had regretted talking to her flatmate about her situation; it may have helped clear her mind about it, but she now couldn't help but notice Beth's solicitous looks in her direction when Harry was around. She hated pity, even more than gossip and speculation. After her conversation with Beth, Ruth tried as much as possible to avoid thinking about it, but she was invariably disturbed by the thought that maybe she hadn't been entirely honest with Harry, or herself. It probably wasn't Beth's intention, but what she had said had sent a wave of self-doubt washing over her. She had almost managed to convince herself that she had made her choice for the right reasons, but it was her inconsistency that was bothering her. She had turned down his proposal, but it was all she could do to not think of him, his arms around her. She had told him a life together was impossible, but when she was rattling around her empty flat, she imagined how it would be like if he were there with her. She was used to taking information and pulling it apart, before reassembling it and making sense of it all. Somehow in this instance her intellect was failing her.

It was late, and Ruth was by herself on the Grid. Her pile of work had been condensed to a few files that needed Harry to go over. He had left long ago - his office blinds were drawn and she decided to drop them on his desk on the way out. She would have time to make the last bus home. She slid open the door and was three quarters of the way to the desk before she realized he _was_ there. He was barely noticeable at the edge of the light cast by the soft, dim glow of his desk lamp. He was laying on his sofa, fast asleep, his hair ruffled and his tie undone. It was so still and silent Ruth thought she could hear a clock ticking somewhere in the background. She should just drop off the files and flee before he noticed her, but for some reason she was rooted to the spot. He looked so peaceful and vulnerable, and suddenly she felt fiercely protective of him. He had lost weight recently she noticed, and even in his sleep there were lines of worry on his face. She couldn't help but wonder if it were her fault that they were there.

Ruth had no idea how long she had been watching him when his voice cut through the air, dragging her back to the present.

"Do you want me?" He had spoken without opening his eyes.

"Sorry…I didn't mean…just…files…"

He looked vaguely embarrassed as he got up.

"I have a late JIC meeting later, and it seemed pointless to home."

"I see. These are for you." She placed the files on the corner of his desk. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you." She turned to leave, but he grabbed her hand.

"Ruth…please…"

When he saw the look of terror on her face, he let go. She didn't move, but she wouldn't look at him, either. Her fingers were fidgeting, and he thought of their one date when they had similarly worked on the corner of a napkin while he talked of the Grand Tour. He had wanted to still her hands in his then. _Was that one of the thousand moments? If he had asked then…?_

"Harry, please don't."

"Don't what?" It was then he realized that he had moved close enough that he could kiss her with a slight movement of his head. He noticed that she was trembling. A sigh escaped him, and he tilted his head until his forehead rested against hers. He expected her to pull away and was shocked when she didn't. He closed his eyes, breathing her in. After the embrace in Ruth's kitchen, he had sworn to himself that he would not put himself in temptation's way again, and yet here he was. He was angry with himself for his weakness.

"Ruth, look at me." His voice was so soft, Ruth could barely hear him despite their proximity. She looked up, and he tried to decipher the look in her eyes. Before she could protest, he took her face in his hands and kissed her, hard. She responded to him, and then abruptly pulled away.

"I'm so sorry…"

"Ruth..."

"Harry, please….I need to think." And with that, she fled the room.

It was much later the next day before Harry would see her again. He had been in meetings in Whitehall for most of the day, and hadn't the faintest idea what had happened in any of them. He went up to the roof to find some solace for his heart, and found himself face to face with her. She looked exhausted and miserable, and Harry tamped down any pangs of worry or concern, and forged ahead.

"Ruth, I can't do this anymore." He sounded utterly defeated.

"What are you going to do?"

"I've thought about sending you back to GCHQ…"

"Bastard." She hadn't thought that if pushed, he would be petty.

"Well, I suppose I should be glad I excite some emotion from you other than pity."

"That's not fair..."

"Maybe not. Last night, Ruth…you kissed me back. I didn't imagine it, and yet…" he trailed off, and turned towards the view. He swallowed hard, and continued without looking at her,

"I've made it pretty plain how I feel and what I want. I don't know what to do. You love me, but you're choosing to deny us as some kind of penance, and I'm not sure I can stay and watch that happen. I've never been very good at martyrdom."

She was silent for a long time, watching the lights of the city. She thought of how many hours she had studied this view, and how much of that time she had spent thinking of him. She often dreamt of the sight in front of her in those times when she never thought she'd ever see England again.

"I lied, every day, when I was with George." She heard him take a quick intake of breath. "I was surprisingly good at it…pretending to be someone I wasn't…You deserve nothing less than the absolute truth, Harry, and I'm not sure I even know how to be in a relationship like that."

"My record in that regard hasn't been exactly exemplary either, Ruth."

She took his face in her hands and he flinched. She had been forced to be brutally honest with herself, and she found that she was absolutely terrified – not of getting hurt, or being alone, but of being without _him_. She had thought it would be easier to simply run, but every time she tried, something would compel her to come back, stay. She tried to stick to being work colleagues and that had been harder than leaving him on that dock those years ago. There was a glimmer of hope amidst the frustration in his eyes and before he could pull away from her, she kissed him softly. It was sometime later before they pulled away from each other.

"Ruth, I don't want a fling, so unless…" She stopped his lips with her thumbs.

"Harry, I want us to be together, but you must know that I can't marry you…at least not yet."

He smiled, scarcely believing what he was hearing.

"How about dinner, then?"

Sorry to take so long with this – didn't turn out exactly as I had in my head, but I hope you enjoyed it. I think I need some fluff now…! Please review.


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